Page 63 of Edge of Desire

I requested a seat toward the back and then I handed her my ID and credit card. It didn’t take but a few minutes and I was on my way through security. My mind kept seeing images of the last time I flew with Preston, but I forced them down. This wasn’t the time. If I thought too much about it, I’d have a breakdown and couldn’t afford that right now.

Once I cleared security, I exhaled. I must’ve been holding my breath because I literally felt lightheaded. My plane was already boarding, so I headed straight to the gate and walked right on the plane. I headed to the back to take my seat. I wanted to be alone and hopefully no one else would be back there.

Now that I was away from Preston, I started to process everything that had happened. Had I overreacted? Did I do the wrong thing by leaving? My heart was hurting something fierce, but I was livid at what he’d done. How could he have made me think our lives were in danger for all that time just to satisfy his own wants? The whole idea of it all sickened me. There was my answer. I hadn’t overreacted. I buried my head in my hands and cried. It was a good thing the plane was loud so no one could hear my grief-stricken sobs.

Right now, all I wanted to do was to climb into bed and stay there for a week. But I didn’t even have a stupid bed of my own to climb into. I could hear my mother already. “I told you, Avery, you should never have left home. You should’ve listened to me.”

I didn’t dare show my humiliated face in Charleston. That was the last thing I’d ever do. I’d die first before I’d admit defeat. No way would I go home with my tail tucked between my legs.

The flight attendant popped by to see if I wanted something to drink. I asked for a vodka, but she said since the flight was so short, they would only be serving non-alcoholic beverages. What a pity. She was right about the length of the flight. We landed not long afterwards, and I went to the information desk to inquire about a hotel in downtown Denver. I ended up booking a room at a boutique hotel and then rented a car. By the time I checked in, I was a wreck.

When I unpacked my meager belongings, my battered world crashed once again. As I had haphazardly stuffed everything into that duffle, I’d accidentally packed one of Preston’s shirts. At first, I simply stared at it, like it was an alien, getting ready to gobble me alive. Then, I dissolved into a pool of tears, and hugged it to my chest. I smelled his delicious scent as I wrapped it around me, and it made me weep even more. Crawling to the bed, I curled around it and stayed like that for I don’t know how long.

Sometime late the next morning I woke up, still hugging his shirt. Forcing myself to shower, I ordered room service and made a list of things I needed. First off, I’d need a cell phone. The last one I had was at Justin’s, and while I was at Preston’s, I found no need for one. I was also under the impression that I could be tracked if I used one and it would put me in greater danger. Anger spread throughout me as I punched the pillow, thinking of how he had told me another lie. I wonder how many he had concocted to make his story believable. What kind of person did that? Lived on lie after lie and then not be bothered by it? I wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night had I done the same thing to him.

I’d always wondered how people said one could die of a broken heart. I used to think that was such a silly thing. I mean, really. How wrong I had been. No doubt there were people who surely must have died of it. Because I was dying a little bit at a time, slowly, painfully not of a broken heart but of a crushed one. The only thing missing was the blood.

The maid dutifully knocked on my door every day, but I’d send her away after accepting a few bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and a new bar of soap from her. On the fifth day, the management came by and asked if I was okay. I assured them I was, physically anyway. Emotionally, I would never be okay. Realistically, I would, but it would be far in the future, and I’d never be the old Avery again. She was long gone and in her place was someone I wasn’t sure I liked very much, someone who was untrusting, suspicious, and broken. I’d look at myself in the mirror and what I saw saddened me. My face was red and swollen from crying and my eyes looked bruised from too many sleepless nights. Thank God my mother couldn’t see me now.

Two weeks later, I checked out of the hotel and headed to the upcountry of Colorado. I had fallen in love with Vail as a child and maybe I could do so again as a crushed grownup. While I’d lain in bed, I’d reviewed all the options of what I could do. I didn’t want to go back to work in any type of formal career. As I drove up the mountains to either Breckenridge, Vail, or Aspen, I decided to seek a job tending bar. The ski season was right around the corner and what better way to recover than to spend a winter on the slopes?

Breckenridge was the first town along the way, but I decided to forego it and head straight to Vail. I’d always loved the alpine village and what the mountain had to offer as far as skiing went. Once again, I checked into a hotel. This time it was the Grand Ski Lodge. Then I went to work job and apartment hunting. I was lucky because the local bars and restaurants were hiring for the winter season, so landing a job was simple. I was honest about not having tended bar before, but they told me they’d give me a two-week trial period, and if I passed, I was good to go. My first day at Tres Chicas, which was a bar and restaurant right at the base of the main gondola in Vail Village, went well. We weren’t very busy yet, since the season hadn’t officially started. The bartender training me was named Derrick, and luckily, he was very patient.

“Most of your apres-ski drinkers will want ice-cold beer. And of course, since margaritas are our specialty, that will be a huge choice too.”

Derrick taught me all the tricks and I picked it up quite easily. He even told me about a couple of vacant apartments for rent in town. One was literally right around the corner. It was a seasonal rental, which was perfect, and a studio which, again, was ideal. The rent was pricey, but I didn’t give a damn. I had the money, so I went for it.

Stupidity wasn’t one of my strongest suits, so I knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would show up in Vail hunting me down. I hadn’t called anyone, not even Justin. The whole fucking experience was simply too painful for me to think about, much less speak of. So late one afternoon, a week after the season opened, I was working and turned around to see Justin sitting at the bar with a half grin on his face.

“How about a cold one for your thirsty brother, Ava?”

Twenty

Preston

She was fast, I’ll give her that. I didn’t expect her to leap out of the car. She was also smart because she knew damn well I wouldn’t be able to chase her. Well, she’d done it, made her getaway from me. And it was fucking killing me. I deserved every single kick in the ass I got, but nevertheless, every one of them felt lethal. And it wasn’t just my ass that was feeling it. Seriously, I wished she had shot me with that damn gun I’d given her. It would’ve been a hell of a lot easier than this fucking agony I was living through.

The cabin was the only place to go, but it was a living hell for me. Once I got there, I threw my stuff in a couple of duffle bags and hit the road. I made sure the place was cleaned and locked down for the winter, because there was no way I’d be back there anytime soon. Too many memories, and that was the truth. What the fuck had I been thinking? That she’d roll over and say, “Oh, Preston, I just love you so much, it doesn’t matter that you conjured up the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard.”

Christ. I threw away the greatest, most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. And why? Because I’m a fucking manipulating pussy. That’s why. I couldn’t wait and let things play out on their own, the way they’re supposed to. I had to go and take advantage of things, turn them into something they weren’t. And God, I had hurt her, so damn much. My arm flew out before I even thought about what I was doing, and punched the dashboard of the car. Hearing the bones crunch and then feeling the pain searing through my hand, I was sure it was broken. At least it was a diversion from the torment I was experiencing in the rest of my body.

I decided it was a good thing Justin was an orthopedist, because by the time I got to Seattle, I was positive my hand would resemble a balloon. I drove the ten and a half hours straight, only stopping to get gas and use the restroom. Sixteen hundred milligrams of ibuprofen held me until I could see a doctor. My hand was already purple, and I couldn’t bend any of my fingers. Bad news on the hand front. Served me right though.

It was six in the morning when I hit the buzzer on Caroline’s gate. It took a few minutes for anyone to answer, but I eventually heard Justin’s voice right before the gate slid open.

One look at my hand and he had me in his car on the way to the hospital to get it fixed.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” I answered. “I fucked up, Justin. Really bad. I ... oh hell.” I couldn’t stop my leg from bouncing up and down.

“You gonna tell me about it? I know it has to do with Ava.”

“Has she called?” I almost jumped right out of my seat and straight into his.

“No and calm your ass down. What the hell happened between you two?”

“Oh, God. I ruined everything. Everything. ’Cause I’m so damned selfish and stupid.”

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